What Tomorrow Brings
by Yanagi Uxinta
Summary: The first night in Atlas Blake can't help but think of her final confrontation with Adam. Grief and guilt and relief are complicated things, but there's one other person in the group who can help Blake work through her trauma.
1. Chapter 1

Hi all, I'm still on my RWBY kick. As you may or may not have gathered from my previous fics, I've got... complicated feelings about the end of volume six - and no, I don't mean the giant robot. I imagine Blake's emotions would be just as complex, so this was my attempt at delving into her head in the aftermath of the Adam fight. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

The others were asleep. The rooms Ironwood had assigned them when they turned up in a stolen atlas jet were nice, just not nice enough for them to forget they were all under house arrest until the morning and he could figure out what to do with them all.

It was a barracks. Two bedrooms, men and women, with a conjoining living space. Maria and Qrow were their adult chaperones. Nora had been the most annoyed, but Ren had soothed her with assurances that it wouldn't be for long.

He didn't know that. None of them did.

Atlas. They'd only seen a few people – all human – other than Ironwood on arrival for how late it was, but she'd had her ears pressed flat to her skull more often than not when she caught the looks they gave her.

That had only been less than an hour. What would it be like tomorrow, or the day after that, or after that? What had it been like living here, looked down on, spat on, whipped, abused, branded-

For all his scars, he'd never looked small before. Young, innocent even, but never small. He had on his knees, blood beating out of his back, shoulders shuddering as he fought for breath – for his last-

Blake grabbed her furred ears and pulled, hard, her lower lip trapped between her teeth so she wouldn't make a noise to disturb the others.

The pain eased, but it hadn't chased away her thoughts the way she'd hoped. All it had done was bring the tears trapped in her throat since he'd fallen out of view back to her eyes.

He would have killed you. He would have killed _Yang_, and Weiss if he'd found her, and if them then why not Ruby. Everyone, he'd said, and everyone except her parents, Ilia and Sun had been there…

But it was still _Adam_. The boy she'd admired, the man she'd loved, the hero she'd worshipped, and it was his blood that had trickled down the shattered remains of Gambol Shroud to track down the creases between her knuckles and the fold between her thumb and forefinger. His blood that had picked out the tiny lines in her skin, staining them until they had reached Atlas and Yang had gently pushed her to the shower first.

She'd wanted to scour her hands until it was her blood running, not his. She'd wanted to leave his blood there, untouched, because once that was gone so was he, and how, how, _how_-

A hand touched her shoulder.

_Don't be Yang_.

In an instant she knew it wasn't; the hand too small, too delicate, with calluses from a sword. But that feeling had been true, and strong, and was followed with relief.

It was stupid. Yang would understand. She _had_ understood, when the strength had gone out of her legs and she'd grazed her knees through her trousers on the stone ground and the only reason she hadn't screamed was because sobbing hadn't left her with enough breath.

But that had been in the moment. This was hours later, when the adrenaline had died, when she should be relieved, nothing more, and instead tears were rolling across the bridge of her nose to soak into her hair.

Weiss was standing over her, a finger pressed to her lips, her head tilted to the bedroom door. It led to the small living room that conjoined the two bedrooms.

She couldn't really say no.

They padded barefoot out of the room, leaving the bunk beds so reminiscent of Beacon behind, and closed the door behind them.

Weiss guided her to the sofa – entirely unnecessary, Blake could see better than her in the dark even with conjunctivitis – pressed her down onto one of the sofas then headed for the kitchenette.

The kettle was quiet, as kettles go, but in the silence it sounded too loud. Blake tensed, hands clenched in her lap, waiting for one of the bedroom doors to open and for someone to come out, wondering what all the noise was at- where was the clock- four in the morning.

But the doors remained closed, and soon the smell of coffee rose. Coffee, and more subtle-

'Tea. No milk, no sugar,' Weiss murmured, voice pitched low to match the quiet of the room.

'Thanks,' Blake whispered, voice hoarse.

Weiss settled neatly on the sofa beside her, graceful even after only three hours sleep. 'Do you want to talk about it, or should we finish these and go to bed?'

Blake stared into her drink, watching the tiny ripples as the water settled.

She didn't even bury him. Didn't think of it, didn't even try to find his... him. Didn't try to find him, pull him out of the water, just let him get washed away like the garbage and waste pumped out by so many Dust processing plants to flow away to the ocean.

He didn't deserve that. For all he'd done, for what he'd become, he didn't deserve that. He deserved something better, even just a cairn of stones over him. Something peaceful, instead of being battered to pieces by the current.

'I know he was an awful person. I know he'd become a monster and refused to change. I know all that, I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but think I should have done more, or done something differently. I can't help but think he didn't deserve what happened. And I feel guilty for feeling that way.'

Weiss nodded, hands curled around her mug. 'You loved him?'

Her heart clenched, her eyes burned. 'I did. Even at Beacon, before... before the fall. I always loved him; I just couldn't condone his actions anymore. I'd hoped he'd change, I wanted the best for him, but that best couldn't be me. I tried to move on, and hoped he would too.'

'Well, your rapscallion was an improvement.'

She expects grudging, she expects censure, but all she sees is Weiss' gentle, teasing smile. The word doesn't hurt anymore.

'Or should I say 'is' an improvement?'

Blake sipped her tea, trying to hide her hesitation. 'I don't know. Not... not yet. Maybe when we see each other again. Right now...'

'You need to figure things out. You need to heal. And, Blake, feeling like this is part of it.' Weiss sighed. 'My father is a... difficult man. Cruel. It took me a long time to realise that. I want nothing more than to take the company back from him, erase every sign he ever held it... but he's still my father. The idea of him dying is hard to deal with. The idea of being responsible for it makes me terrified. I can't see it coming to that, our situations are too different in that respect, but... I understand the way you feel. How complicated it must be, how easy it is to feel guilty for feeling anything but anger or hate towards him, because there was a time when you loved him and it's hard to forget that.'

'Thank you,' Blake said quietly, shoulders dropping. It didn't make it easier, the ache in her chest and the churning guilt hadn't faded, but it helped. Weiss understood. That was at the heart of it. Weiss _understood_, and the others-

'What is it?'

Her ears tilted back, she turned away. 'I feel like I shouldn't say it.'

'That's never stopped you before,' Weiss said gently.

She took a breath. Another. 'The others wouldn't understand. Yang in particular. Adam was never a person to her; he was a monster and a nightmare. She was wonderful when it happened, but I feel like if I went to her with this, she wouldn't... I... I don't want to talk to her, to trust her with this, and then see in her face that she doesn't understand why I'm upset about it, even as she tries to help. Especially when she said-' she stopped, stifling her rambling, reaching for composure.

'During the fight, Adam said something about how I promised I'd always be by his side, and that I'd broken that promise. Yang said that I'd promised that to the person he was _pretending_ to be. But she didn't know him. She barely knows anything about him, she just assumed that. He _was_ like that once. He wasn't always a monster. He changed into something horrible, but he did _change_. And I feel so ungrateful for feeling angry about it, because she saved me, but _she didn't know him_ and I can't-' she closed her eyes, tears rolling free again. 'I can't forget what he used to be like. And that he will _never_ be that way again, because of us. Because of _me_.'

Weiss' hand landed on her knee, squeezing. 'Because he didn't give you a choice. Because you did what you had to do to survive. No one is saying you should forget him, Blake, or that you should throw away the good because of the bad. But you should forgive _yourself_ for what you had to do.'

'But I didn't,' she whispered. 'I panicked. But I got there first, I could have stepped away, I could have stabbed him somewhere else to bring him down but leave him alive, I could have-'

'You could have died trying to do any of those things. You ended the fight as quickly and as cleanly as possible, and that meant fighting to kill someone who pushed you into that situation in the first place.'

'What if...' she swallowed the lump in her throat, tried to clear it. 'I spent so long acting out of anger, and out of hate. I stayed with Sienna's White Fang for so long because it was the easy choice. We were fighting so hard to break the status quo, but I spent so long trying _not_ to upset the internal one, because they were all older, they knew better, and they were getting results. It took me years to do what was _right_, not what was easy, and what if that's what I did yesterday? What if I killed him because it was the easy choice? If this was the right one, why does it hurt so much?'

Weiss was quiet for a long moment. 'I don't know,' she said finally. 'I think only you can answer that, in time. All I can say is that whatever choice led to you being here with us, safe, was the right one. And that I'll be here for you for as long as you need me.'

Her vision clouded over completely. She put her cup down on the coffee table, fumbling for the edge. It had been easier when Dad had been there to do that for her. She turned for the pale blue and white blue that was Weiss, heard the second clunk that was Weiss' mug tapping the wood, then sank into Weiss' arms with a stifled sob.

The Ice Queen was warm.

'Thank you,' she whispered into Weiss' hair, not minding that strands were tickling her nose or getting in her mouth. 'And I'll be here for you, the whole time. Being back here can't be easy for you.'

They both pulled back, Weiss with a put-upon grimace. 'Yes, well. I'd have to come back at some point to reclaim the company. I just didn't expect to barely arrive in Mistral only to turn around and head straight home. Father will have barely finished ranting.'

They both shared a small, pained smile. But Weiss had brought up something important. Something she needed to know.

'Your father... do you know what the company has done, under his control? Do you know the worst of it?'

Weiss closed her eyes, resigned, before reaching for her mug again. 'I know it's bad, but I don't know the full extent. I'm not allowed access to certain files, even before I was disinherited, and a lot of it simply isn't on record. All I've heard are rumours, and seen how people – particularly Faunus – react to the SDC. You were a big part of why I started looking into it more,' she admitted, before taking a healthy swig of coffee. She wouldn't be sleeping tonight, unless that was decaf.

Her smile felt hollow. 'I'm glad you did. Weiss... can you promise me something?'

Weiss' eyes narrowed. 'I can try. Am I going to regret it?'

Blake chuckled. 'I hope not. You're already planning on taking back the SDC. That's part of it, but...' she faltered, trying to find the words forward. 'Adam was from Atlas, you know. Couldn't tell you where. He was born in the Dust mines. To two Faunus slaves for the SDC.'

Weiss' expression had frozen, her eyes cast down at her coffee. Only the steam moved.

'He never told me the fully story, but I know the conditions were horrific. And I saw the scars. Burns, whips... but the worst was here.' She swiped her fingers across her left eye; spread enough to encompass her eyebrow and the top of her cheekbone. 'SDC. Branded onto his face, blinding him in that eye for fighting back against an overseer when he was barely more than a child. That's why he always wore a mask. Everyone would stare, and the skin was so badly damaged it shouldn't be exposed to direct sunlight for long. So he covered it up, and he escaped, and he struck back at the SDC at every chance he got. But he got out. There are hundreds of Faunus, undocumented, who don't officially exist, hidden at these mining sites and abused and exploited by your father's employees, encouraged by his policies, and it needs to stop. _You_ need to stop it.'

That jerked Weiss' head up. There was a burgeoning look of panic on her face.

Blake took her hand. 'Not alone,' she said. 'I'll help. The White Fang needs to change too. I love my father, but his methods didn't work. That's what hurts. Sienna Khan's and Adam's did, until Adam went too far. But even Sienna's led to too much death and pain. There needs to be a middle ground, and we need to focus not just on our rights in concept, but on our people who are alive and suffering _now_. No more Adams. All the pain he caused was his fault. He could have chosen differently, and he chose to continue the cycle of abuse he was born into. But the cycle didn't start with him. It started with Jacques Schnee's SDC. So I want to help you take the Schnee Dust Company back, and to free my people while we're at it.'

Weiss' hand was warm from her coffee. She set the mug back on the table and grasped Blake's hand with both of hers. The panic was gone. In its place were determination, and that familiar defiance. 'I promise. When I take back my grandfather's company, I will find _all_ of those sites, and I will free the Faunus there and help them in any way I can. Integration into society, housing, anything.'

Blake smiled, squeezing her hands. 'And in the meantime, I'll contact the White Fang here in Atlas. Adam wasn't the only one to escape over the years. There's bound to be people who know where some of these sites are. If we can organise the White Fang, rally them to the cause, we could start making a difference much sooner. If we can liberate even one site, then we'd have the bulk of evidence needed to prove this is happening. It's easy to dismiss individual people trying to tell the truth, but hundreds? If we have photo and video evidence? The world can't ignore that.'

'And the staff members there?' Weiss ventured, concerned.

_Family, friends disappear. Board members… executed._

_What about the crew members?_

'Will be given the choice to surrender. We will strive to restrain, not harm or kill. But…'

_When you fight, people get hurt!_

_People hurt me long before we met... All sorts of people in all sorts of ways..._

_There were so many scars on his body. It had taken a long time for him to trust her with even seeing them; for the defensive hunch of his shoulders to ease when he realised she wasn't going to mock or treat him like some charity case. He'd told her bits and pieces, never details, never everything. But enough for her to tell the whip marks from the marks left by squeezing through too-tight gaps in the mine tunnels. To spot the pale white stars of small burns left by stray embers or cigarettes, long healed and hard to see. The slightly crooked set of his fingers on his left hand, easily disguised by his gloves. And the brand. Always the brand. The skin had been so tight, shiny, but fragile beneath her fingertips. The bone had felt scarily close to the surface, like there was no fat there to cushion it. In some places there hadn't been. 'This is what happens when you resist,' he'd said. 'But I was alone then. Not anymore. Together, with the White Fang at our backs, we'll strike back twice as hard, and when they resist they will just have to pray we're feeling merciful. Just like we did.' _

'But I won't pretend that this will be easy, or bloodless. The overseers there, Weiss... they're the worst of humanity. As bad as Cinder or worse. So if they try to stop us freeing slaves, if they refuse to stand down... yes, we'll fight. And they may get hurt, or die. But there was one thing Sienna and Adam were right about. Sometimes peaceful protest isn't enough. My parents tried so hard to do things peacefully, to prove we deserved equal rights because we were doing things their way, by their rules – we weren't embodying the stereotype we'd been branded with. But it didn't work. Sometimes you need to fight for what is right. I don't agree with Sienna or Adam's methods, and I think their focus was misdirected, but if we must use violence, then using it to liberate our people is the best cause. The Great War wasn't won by appealing or peaceful protest. Neither was the Faunus Rights Revolution – and that's what we need. A revolution – not a plea for better treatment, because they aren't listening.'

Weiss nodded; her mouth still in a troubled moue but her resolution firm. 'I understand. And if this is what the Faunus have been dealing with all along, if this how bad it was... I don't like what they did in response, many of the people they killed – my family – didn't deserve what happened to them, but I can see why they got so desperate to resort to that.'

They both sank into a contemplative silence. Their drinks were cooling, but they sipped them anyway. The clock ticked to itself until their mugs were empty and the first birds started singing.

Blake roused herself first, silently collecting their cups and rinsing them in the sink. They headed back to the bedroom, pausing only for a tight, grounding hug before they had to sneak back in and pretend tonight had never happened.

'Thank you,' Blake whispered, holding the girl she had once blamed for so much, and grateful to her bones that she was here.

'You're welcome,' Weiss said, but there was none of her old haughtiness anymore. Of all of them, she'd probably changed the most.

Together they slipped back into the room of sleepers, to the two empty bottom bunks. They shared a grimace at Nora and Maria's snoring, and slid under the covers. They fell asleep facing each other, reassurance only a glance away.

Whatever tomorrow brought, they would be together, and they would be ready.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, this turned into a two-parter.

Obviously the first chapter is now semi-AU, as we know what happened when Team RWBY arrived in Atlas now, but I think the content still works for the most part. Now Volume 7 is over... well, as you may be able to tell I'm not overwhelmingly happy with the volume, especially Blake's character, though that was by no means the only flaw in the volume (and god, that new design. What happened to cosplay-friendly?)

Anyway, here's chapter two, my attempt to explore why Blake has been acting the way she has so far. Weiss continues to be the best girl. Hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: Reference to a previous abusive relationship, nothing in depth, just a heads up.

* * *

It was three in the morning. The Grimm had finally retreated two hours ago, leaving everyone to pick up the pieces. Ruby had finally fallen asleep clinging to Yang, tears still drying on her cheeks. Weiss had tried to help, but sometimes Ruby just needed her big sister. She understood that, and was quietly relieved – Ruby had spent so long putting on a brave face for everyone else, Weiss had started to worry that nothing would have an impact on her.

Ren and Nora had been tense, quiet, and had gone to bed early. Jaune had taken one look at their dorm door and stayed in the rec room, talking quietly with Marrow. The youngest Ace Operative was supposedly there to check on them all, make sure they were alright, but now he was out of the public eye, Weiss was starting to think he needed their support as much as they needed his. If the mug of coffee he'd been clutching was any indication, he wasn't planning on sleeping tonight.

And Blake…

Weiss found her in their little kitchenette, sat at the table, head in her hands, ears pinned flat. Weiss pulled out the chair opposite.

Blake barely glanced up.

'Well, I think we can safely say today was a disaster,' Weiss said, smoothing her skirts out.

Blake's mouth tightened, her ears tensing as if she was trying to squeeze them through her skull.

Weiss sighed. Not going to be that easy then. 'Blake, talk to me. Today was horrible, but it seems to be hitting you much harder than I expected, considering…'

'Considering I wasn't there?'

Well, it was progress. Weiss nodded.

Blake's eyes dropped back to the table, but her fingers relaxed a little. 'I can't help but think that if I'd been there… I grew up in political rallies, Weiss. I've seen them all – peaceful, hijacked, riots – if I'd been there, maybe I would have seen Tyrian earlier. I know the signs to look out for, for someone who isn't there to genuinely protest, whether it's because they're there just to incite violence, or if they're actually from the other side to try and make us look bad. Even if not, I can see in the dark. I could have stopped him when the lights went out. I could have at least _tried_. Maybe I would have slowed him down enough to save the people he killed. Maybe I could have stopped Penny from being framed.'

Weiss slowly tugged off her gloves, considering her words. 'I don't blame you for not being there, Blake – no one does. And from what we know about Tyrian, there probably wasn't much you _could _have done. I… have to ask why, though. It's just- back at Beacon, given the choice to go dancing or to go to a political party – especially one as divisive as this one – you wouldn't have even considered dancing an option.'

Her eyes slid away, and her shoulders hunched. 'I didn't see the harm,' she said, but her voice sounded too soft, too weak. And then, quieter, rushed, like it was meant to be a minor point: 'And Yang wanted to, so I-'

Weiss held a hand up. 'Stop,' she said. For a moment she could have been Marrow; Blake stopped. 'I asked why _you_ wanted to go, not why Yang did.'

Blake took her hands off her head, only to hug herself, slumped in her chair, still looking away. 'Team FNKI invited us.'

'And? Blake, you're the one who turned down Sun to the dance back at Beacon because you were too caught up in what the White Fang presence meant, criminally and _politically_. _Sun_. Who you like far more than Team FNKI, I might add.'

Blake flinched.

She should probably back off, but there was something more to this, and it was worrying her. It _had_ been worrying her, ever since the fight with that Adam Taurus. Blake hadn't been acting herself. She thought she'd been bad on the way to Argus, constantly looking out for Yang, looking for ways to make up for what Adam had done to her. It had been painful to watch. But this? Rather than recover the relationship they'd had at Beacon, it was like Blake had doubled-down on being there for Yang… only this time, instead of giving Blake the cold shoulder or wanting things to go back to normal, Yang was just… accepting it. Enjoying it, even.

The fight had changed something critical in their relationship, and Weiss wasn't sure it was for the better.

'What do you want me to say, Weiss?' Blake asked. From the old Blake, that would have been a demand. Now it sounded like pleading. 'That I just wanted to dance? That I wanted a break from politics? That I made a mistake?'

Now was the time to be gentle. 'I want the truth, Blake. I want you to be able to tell me you honestly wanted to go dancing rather than to an election party, whose outcome would have a _massive_ impact on the Faunus and other oppressed people in Mantle. But I don't think you can, can you?'

Blake glanced up, just for a moment, and those amber eyes were too bright with tears. She shook her head, lips pressed tight together.

'So why go?'

Blake closed her eyes, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. 'Because Yang wanted to.'

'And you didn't get a say in the matter?'

Her eyes opened as she shook her head, but she was still staring at the floor, off to the side of the table. 'It's not like that. If I'd said something, Yang would have listened, I know she would. But she wanted to go, so I didn't say anything.'

'Why though?' She couldn't help sounding frustrated. 'Why not let Yang go dancing, and you go to the election?'

This time, Blake replied faster, sharper. 'Because I made a promise, Weiss!'

Weiss stared, momentarily speechless. Only momentarily. 'You're taking that _literally_? Blake, _why_?'

Blake took a deep, shuddering breath, but at least there was that fire in her eyes again, that will. 'Because I hurt her, Weiss. I left without a word, knowing her history, and didn't even leave a note to explain myself. Even Adam brought it up; how I promised to stay by his side, only to leave when he went too far. That's all I've ever done, Weiss. I made promises to stay, I broke them, I left, and the people I abandoned were devastated, but I never had to face that, so I never had to deal with the consequences until now. I don't want to leave again. I want to break that cycle for good. Is it so wrong to want to make up for that mistake?'

'When it comes at the cost of being your own person? Yes! Blake, listen-' she said, reaching out across the table to her when Blake turned her head away. 'These past several weeks, ever since the fight, you have been different. You've barely left Yang's side for a moment; you cater to her every whim, and _she's letting you!_ What happens if she wants to do something you don't? And I don't just mean something trivial like going clubbing; none of us could have known how tonight was going to go. I mean something you are not comfortable with, that you _do not_ want to do, but she does. What then?'

Blake rolled her eyes, but her shoulders were tight. 'That's hardly likely to happen!'

'Why, because you're not allowed to disagree anymore?'

Blake glared at her. 'Because I can't think of anything that divisive that we'd disagree on.'

'Oh, so if tonight had been a Faunus rights march instead of an election? Or if Robyn were a Faunus going up against my father? And Yang still wanted to go dancing?'

Blake scoffed. 'This is _Atlas_, Weiss. We can't even go into half the buildings, in Atlas or Mantle. Any Faunus running for a council seat is a fantasy. The context doesn't work.'

'Oh, so the Faunus rights march doesn't either?' Weiss asked, slipping into her fake-sweet tone she still couldn't shake when she was annoyed, damn her mother's influence.

Blake threw her hands up, the most open she'd looked all night. 'Then I'd talk to her!'

'Would you? Because from what I've seen, it looks like Yang's been calling all the shots, and you've been placidly going along with them. Even in conversation! You laugh at anything she says, even if it isn't funny! And for her part, she gets insulted if anyone even insinuates you shouldn't be glued at the hip! I heard her bragging about 'showing Marrow', when he said you should work with other people. What would be so wrong about working with other people _in your team_?'

Blake's hand slapped the top of the table, the other propping up her forehead. Those fingers splayed away as she spoke, letting Weiss see her eyes. 'So what would you have me do, Weiss? Ignore her? Leave her alone?'

Oh, if she wanted to snap at her, fine. 'I'd have you get your self-esteem back!'

Blake stopped.

Tone it down then. 'Look, I know Adam must have got to you. I know you're grateful to Yang for being there. But you're letting what he said rule your life. You're so scared that Yang will decide he was right after all, you're so convinced that you owe her; that you're not living for yourself, you're living for her. And that's not you, Blake. That's never been you. You've always done what you thought was right, what was just. But you've twisted that into 'anything Yang does or says is right', or, 'Yang deserves it', just so you can justify going along with it, even if you don't want to.'

Blake was looking down again, but all the tension had gone out of her frame. One hand rose to tug at her shortened hair, twisting a strand around her finger – mimicking the curls that used to frame her face.

She was getting through to her, but there was one more thing that concerned her. 'What if she kissed you?'

Blake froze.

The question hung in the air, until Blake found her lungs and finally breathed. 'I- I don't know what you mean,' she said, huddling in on herself again.

Yes she did. 'What if Yang kissed you; and you didn't want her to? All those little touches, Blake, all those times she's touched you without any real reason. Are you really surprised?'

Blake's ears folded back, and she shook her head. 'I don't know,' she whispered.

Weiss nodded. 'And is that because you like her back? Or because you don't know if you'd be able to say no to her?'

Blake stared at her, eyes hurting and scared, and Weiss knew the answer.

'I don't know how she would react,' Blake said quietly. 'I'd… I'd like to think she'd take it well. That we'd go back to normal. But what if she sees that as just another rejection? One more time I'll abandon her? Because once this is all over, if we survive it, if I don't want to be with her, then I won't be able to keep my promise, right? So it's just a matter of time before I break her trust again. I don't want to hurt her like that, Weiss, but… I don't want to be trapped in a relationship ever again.' She met her eyes then, and though she was crying silently, her gaze was steady, open.

Weiss held her hand out, and Blake slowly took it, wiping her cheeks with her other sleeve. 'If it helps, I don't think Yang would take it that way. I think she'd accept you don't feel the same way, and would leave it there, even if it hurt. But this promise, Blake, it isn't healthy. That is why I've been so worried.'

'I just…' Blake broke off, looking up at the ceiling and blinking rapidly. 'Yes, he got into my head, _again_. I know that. But… I can't help but feel like I _have _to prove him wrong. Like that's the only way I'll get to move on, because otherwise he wins. I don't want that to ruin my relationship with Yang further; I don't want a future where every time I look at her, I'm reminded of him – I'm reminded that he was right. But I don't know how to do that without Yang thinking I'm leaving her again, whether that's now or in the future.' She stopped, sleeve pressed to her cheek, her grip so tight on Weiss' hand. Then, like it had burst out of her without her consent: 'And she's acting like nothing happened, and that everything is back to normal, and it's _not_! How can it be? Adam became a monster, yes, but Yang's acting as though all she's killed – all _I've_ killed – is a Grimm. Something to just forget about and move on! And I'm trying so hard to do the same, because if this is how she's acting then she won't understand why I don't feel like she does. And it… it scares me that she can just… forget that he was a person. I know; I know logically she hasn't, she can't have done, that's not the kind of person she is, but that's how it feels. She hasn't once brought it up, or shown any kind of… of worry that she killed someone, or regret, or sadness. She's just… normal Yang. And I'm trying _so hard_ to be normal for her, but I don't think I can keep this up for much longer.'

Weiss squeezed her hand, taking a moment to let Blake compose herself and to choose her words.

'I think you and Yang need to talk things over properly – your relationship, what happened with Adam, everything. By all means, be there for her, support her, but don't sacrifice your own wellbeing for her, especially when it isn't life or death. She wouldn't want that. And you say you've been trying to be normal for her – maybe you'll find out she'd been doing the same for you. Maybe killing Adam does bother her. Either way, the only way this will be resolved is for you both to talk, and set boundaries. I think you'll feel a lot better for it once you have, because you'll know where she stands, and you'll be able to tell her what you want as well.'

Blake sniffled and nodded. 'I know. There just… hasn't been time, with everything going on. And I'm scared to suddenly change my behaviour without talking with her, in case she thinks she's done something wrong, or that I'm going to leave again. I want to talk with her; I just need the right time.'

Weiss squeezed her hand. 'I understand that. Quite when that chance will happen is another matter entirely. I get the feeling we're going to be working non-stop after this.'

Blake managed a tremulous smile. 'Thank you, Weiss. You shouldn't have to keep doing this for me.'

Weiss gave an overly-dramatic put-upon sigh, her free hand splaying across her chest as she stuck her nose in the air. 'I'm just that good.' Relaxing, she added, 'what was it a certain Faunus said? You should always get your friends involved? Besides, now that Father's won I don't doubt I'm going to need you to return the favour soon enough. Fair?'

Blake chuckled. 'Fair.'

The clock read twenty past three. Ironwood wanted them in a meeting at eight tomorrow morning. Given how long it took everyone to get ready considering the four of them were sharing a bathroom, they had maybe three and a half hours before they had to get up.

Weiss sighed. 'Tempting as it is to grab a coffee and just not go to sleep tonight, I think we'd both suffer for that tomorrow. Are you ready for bed, or do you want to stay up a bit longer?'

Blake finally released her hand, using the navy belts around her wrists to wipe her eyes and hide the mascara stains. 'No, I'm ready. You're right – we need to get some sleep for tomorrow.'

When they slipped into the dorm, Yang was sprawled out on Ruby's bed, leg dangling over the edge, Ruby resting her head on Yang's shoulder, the rest of her obscured by the cloak she hadn't taken off.

As they got changed, Blake kept glancing over at Yang, a pensive look on her face. It was in her hands now though, there wasn't much more Weiss could do to help. Some things Blake would have to do herself.

Could this break the team up? Maybe, but they'd been fractured before – they hadn't been fixed, they'd just stuck a band aid over it and pretended that was the same. It might break again, or this might be the nudge it needed to really start to heal.

Weiss really hoped it would be the latter, because if their team broke irrevocably, she couldn't say which way she would go.


End file.
